Welcome to the book blitz for RISE OF PRINCES, the second book in the adult historical/fantasy romance series, The Homeric Chronicles, by Janell Rhiannon. See below for information the book, buy links, an exclusive excerpt, and details on her giveaway. This book is free for a limited time on Amazon. You can also pick up book 1 for free from here.

SynopsisIn the Song of Princes, the western Greek world is set afire by the brazen escape of Helen of Sparta with Paris, the Forgotten Prince of Troy. As their ship plows east across the Aegean, the Great War trails close behind them. Not even the gods could silence the thundering shields and singing arrows following the lovers back to Troy.

In Rise of Princes, Agamemnon and his horde lay siege to Trojan allies for nearly nine years, but it is Achilles, the Golden Warrior, who brutally ravages the Troad lands becoming the Sacker of Cities. His fierce onslaught prompts the gods to intervene on behalf of the Trojans and their allies. Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love and Beauty and patroness of Troy, sends the Princess Briseis to calm the bloody fury of Achilles.

Hektor, the Golden Prince, leads the Trojan army against the western invaders, keeping Troy safe behind the Great Wall. As Defender of the Citadel, he grants sanctuary to thousands of refugees seeking safety from the death and destruction sweeping the land. Behind the solidarity of the royal family, tensions over the continued presence of Helen of Sparta threaten to topple the empire. When the fate of Troy appears most grim, a ray of hope is offered by a new prophesy. Despite his private losses, Hektor vows to remain the strength his people need.

Across the Aegean, the Greek kingdoms struggle with disturbing news from Troy. Queen Clytemnestra of Mycenae, reeling from Agamemnon’s ruthless betrayal, loses faith in the gods and plots her revenge. Queen Penelope of Ithaka, young and uncertain, prays to Athena for her husband’s swift return. And Tyndareus, the former king of Sparta, works to usurp Menelaus’ throne.

Trojans and Greeks face heartbreak as the war, sparked by the vanity and greed of men, continues with no end in sight.

“I never back down.” Smirking, the boy narrowed his fire blue eyes at his master, and added, “Ever!” He charged the centaur like an enraged bull, tilting his shield just so that it was part battering ram. He did not flinch, nor hold back the might of his assault. This was warfare. He crashed into Chiron’s side like a wave upon a wall; the centaur stumbled with the force and Neo fell straight back into the sand. “You are heavy.”

“You, young master, have much to learn.”

“I will not be fighting centaurs, only men. And I will break them all.”

“Bold words from a boy,” Chiron huffed, and twitched his tail impatiently. “How did you become so insolent?” Neo was not as easy to like as Achilles had been, or even Peleus for that matter. Achilles’ son was stubborn and headstrong; willful and arrogant enough to call down the wrath of the gods at any moment. Chiron found himself searching the sky for signs of impending doom and punishments. But, so far, Zeus had seen fit to let the boy alone. “Again.”

Neo brushed off the sand sticking to the side of his sweaty face, hiked his shield on his left arm, and hefted his sword in his right hand. “I am ready, Chiron.” This time, when Neo charged, he tilted his shield, aiming much lower. The centaur reared up, slamming his front hooves down heavily onto Neo’s shield, but not before the boy swung his sword arm around, landing a hard blow against Chiron’s shin.

“Ahh!” The centaur kicked sand at Neo. “You are just as clever as your father.”

Neo smirked. “I will be better than my father.”

Chiron thought, No, you will not be fiercer than Achilles, but you will be feared among men. The centaur was troubled by a reoccurring vision—one in which he saw Neo, tall and strong, his golden hair flying like the mane of a lion, leading the Black Shields of his father’s against a burning city, which he guessed to be Troy. The troubling dreams began when Neo’s training had begun. He knew more about the gods than to dismiss the visions. He knew they were warnings, but warnings of what? That he couldn’t answer.

“Chiron?” Neo asked suddenly.

“What is it, little Neo?”

“Is it true what my grandfather says? That you trained my father to be the best fighter in the entire west?”

“I trained your father in many arts, fighting among them.”

“Fighting is the only art worthy of study.”

There it is, Chiron thought, the shadow surrounding the boy. “Young Neo, you will soon learn that to be a warrior of the highest caliber, as your father is, requires knowledge of many things. And most importantly, requires equal portions of passion and compassion.”

“Compassion is for women. I hear the deeds of my father. I hear how he slays the enemy, cuts them down by the thousands. I know he stoned a princess before her own city walls.”

Chiron narrowed his eyes. The boy’s tone was sharp as a blade, over-confident. He’d have to begin reining him in tightly … if it wasn’t already too late. “He is at war, boy. Best to remember that. Have no doubt, Achilles learned to balance his bloodlust with civility.”

“I will have none of your civility, Chiron. I will go to war someday, like my father. And I will prove myself in battle.”

“That is enough practice for one day,” Chiron said abruptly. “I have other matters to attend to. You may run. Run the mountain course I taught you, for if you are to match your father’s prowess, you will have to first run like the wind.” He cocked an eyebrow at his pupil. “He is the only mortal to ever win a foot race against me. Perhaps, you will be the second.”

Neoptolemus laughed. “I may be the second, but I will be the fastest.” The young master threw down his weapons, running from the training pit to the narrow trail.

Chiron watched after him, twitching his tail impatiently. “He should have been sent far earlier to me. He is more trouble than Achilles ever was.” Much more.

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Author Janell Rhiannon

About the AuthorJanell always had her nose in a book, reading by flashlight when it was “lights out” time. Her love of reading turned to a curiosity about writing. She now writes in all the spare moments she can squeeze out of a day. She also writes fiction and fantasy with some romantic spice for good measure. Janell adores Mythology and Fantasy. Anything magical and mystical. And dragons. And gargoyles. Her guiding motto: “I tell stories, not genres.”